two sparrows once fixed their nest on the branch of a tree; and of worldly gear, water and grain sufficed them; while on the summit of a mountain, beneath which that tree lay, a falcon had its abode, which, at the time of stooping on its quarry, issued from its lurking-place like lightning, and, like heaven's bolt, clean consumed the feebler birds.
whenever the sparrows produced young, and the time was near at hand for them to fly, that falcon, rushing forth from its ambush, used to carry them off and make them food for its own young. now, to those sparrows—in accordance with the saying, "the law of home is a part of faith"—to migrate from that place was impossible, and yet from the cruelty of the tyrannous hawk it was difficult to reside there.
on one occasion their young ones, having gained strength and put forth feathers and wings, were able to move; and the father and mother, pleased with the sight of their offspring, testified their joy at their attempt to fly.
suddenly the thought of the falcon passed through their minds, and, all at once, they began to lament from anxiety.
one of their children—in whose countenance the signs of ripe discretion were visible—having inquired the reason of their despondency, they recounted the history of the falcon's oppression and of its carrying off their young, with all the particulars.
the son said; "the causer of causes has sent a cure for every sorrow. it is probable that if ye exert yourselves in repelling this misfortune both this calamity will be averted from our heads and this burden removed from your hearts."
these words pleased the sparrows; and while one of them stopped to attend the young ones, the other flew forth in search of relief. he resolved in his mind on the way that he would tell his story to whatsoever animal his eyes first fell upon, and ask a remedy for his heart's distress from it.
it happened that a salamander, having come forth from a mine of fire, was wandering in the spreading plain of the desert. when the glance of the sparrow lighted upon him, and that strange form came into his view, he said to himself: "i have fallen upon good! come on, i will disclose the grief of my heart to this marvellous bird; perhaps he may undo the knot of my affairs and may show me the way to a remedy." then with the utmost respect, he advanced to the salamander, and after the usual salutation, paid the compliment of offering service. the salamander, too, in a kind tone, expressed the courtesy required toward travellers and said: "the traces of weariness are discernible in thy countenance. if this arises from journeying, be pleased to halt some days in this neighbourhood; and if the case be aught else, explain it, that, to the extent of my power, i may exert myself to remedy it."
the sparrow loosed his tongue, and represented to the salamander his piteous condition, after a fashion, that, had he told it to a rock, it would have been rent in pieces by his distress.
after hearing his tale, the salamander, too, felt the fire of compassion kindled, and he said; "grieve not! for i will this night take such measures as to consume the falcon's abode and nest and all that therein is. do thou point out to me thy dwelling, and go to thy offspring until the time i come to thee."
the sparrow indicated his dwelling in such a way as not to leave a doubt in the mind of the salamander; and with a glad heart turned toward his own nest. when the night came on, the salamander, with a number of its own kind, each carrying a quantity of naphtha and brimstone, set off in the direction of the spot, and under the guidance of that sparrow conveyed themselves to the vicinity of the falcon's nest.
the latter, unaware of the impending misfortune, had, with its young, eaten plentifully and fallen asleep. the salamanders cast upon their nest all the naphtha and brimstone that they had brought with them and turned back and the blast of justice fell upon those oppressors. they rose up from the sleep of negligence and all of them, with their abode and nest, were at once consumed to ashes.
and this instance is given that thou mayest know that every one who labours to repel an enemy, though he be small and weak, and his foe great and strong, may yet hope for victory and triumph.
